


tempting fate (and hands and hips)

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blowjobs, Facial, M/M, PWP, minor daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pete wentz can't keep his hands to himself and patrick doesn't mind quite as much as everyone thinks</p>
<p>(alternatively- that time i wanted peterick smut and set out to write it myself)</p>
            </blockquote>





	tempting fate (and hands and hips)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a piece of trash and i really really like bottom, subby pete and also patrick coming on pete so here we are

"Pete, baby, you're so good for me."

Pete can't help whining, agreeing with the sentiment. God, his praise kink is really out of fucking control because Patrick's low voice just makes Pete's cock throb a little, pressing uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans. 

They're back at the hotel both of them still running on the post-show high and God, Pete wants to come so bad. 

It had been a really good night, the energy from the kids was crazy and as always Pete thrives off of the attention. After leaving the stage and putting away instruments, the whole band had gone to party with a few techs, throwing back drinks (Andy stuck to ginger ale and drifted off with some people who weren't drinking. As usual, Joe followed).

They ended up sharing a few beers with crew members and had a rather spectacular contest to see who could piss Dirty off the most and it was all fun in games until Pete started getting energetic and couldn't filter himself. Of course, that always ended with Pete hanging off Patrick and tracing over the seams of Patrick's leather jacket, leaning in to press kisses to Patrick's jaw. 

For a while Patrick kept up with the partying, sipping at a lukewarm beer and chattering with friends, pushing Pete off with soft, "Off, sugar, 'm talking to people." Unsurprisingly, that wasn't enough because it never is with Pete, so eventually Patrick snatched one of Pete's wrists mid-sentence. He finished what he was saying, and then dragged Pete off to a dark corner, fingers tight around the bassist's wrist. 

"Pete," Patrick had started, lifting his other hand to trace a fingertip over Pete's soft lips, "What have we said about trying to get my attention when I'm talking to someone?"

Pete's tongue flicked out the catch Patrick's finger, and he whispered, "To not do it." Patrick wasn't quite pleased by Pete's answer, but his eyes had been glued to Pete's pink tongue.

"Come on, daddy," Pete had purred, biting his lip hard, "We don't need these other people, we can have a party all by ourselves." And of course, Patrick couldn't resist that, so he'd stepped back and spoke slowly with command.

"Go back to the hotel. I want you on your knees, ready for me. Understand?"

So twenty minutes later Patrick was fumbling with a key card and making his way into the room, where Pete had set himself up, which prompted Patrick to say, "Pete, baby, you're so good for me."

That brings them to now.  
Pete looks so fucking good. He's still wearing those black jeans and one of his like, three t-shirts, with all the holes and shit. Pete's looking up at Patrick with those wide brown eyes, hands clasped behind his back. When Pete whines, Patrick fucking shivers. 

"You want me to fuck your mouth?" Patrick asks, and that low hungry tone returns. Patrick wants to, he's staring at Pete's lips and the way Pete's tongue pokes out a little like the other man is thirsty. 

"Patrick," Pete breathes, and the bassist blinks a little to flutter his eyelashes. "I don't care how you get off. I just want you to come on me." Patrick blinks for a second to get ahold of himself. Yeah, he's had a few beers, but it's a result of Pete's dirty fucking words more than anything. 

"Open your mouth for me," Patrick mumbles, his own hands clumsily going for the zip on his jeans. "Jesus, shoulda left the party sooner, huh?" As he speaks Patrick's pushing his pants down his hips, sliding a hand into his own boxers jerk himself a few times so he's nice and hard. 

Pete's fucking obscene, mouth wide open with that wet, pink tongue spilling out of his mouth. Those beautiful brown eyes are all wide too, likes Pete's trying to play innocent while silently asking for a mouthful of cock. Patrick's hit with a surge of appreciation for his gorgeous, slutty bassist. 

After a second Patrick pushes his boxers down too, stepping closer to Pete and reaching out to place a guiding hand on the back of Pete's head. "You gonna suck daddy off, Pete?" Patrick murmurs, gently pulling Pete's head closer. Pete smirks and purses his lips, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the head of Patrick's cock. 

"Yes," Pete breathed, and he drops another little kiss. "I wanna taste you, 'trick. Can I have it? Can I have a taste?"

Patrick clenched his jaw for a second and nods kind of harshly, using his hand to guide Pete forward further until Patrick's sliding his dick into Pete's mouth. It's not often they get time to really do this, to be uninhibited and dirty and it's a fucking shame because Pete's so good at this.

He sways and shifts on his knees for a second, mouth opening a little wider as he lets out a tiny moan; the vibrations feel fucking good. Patrick's had a few too many drinks to really keep this going, so he just starts moving his hips. 

"Always such a good boy," Patrick growls after a second, picking up his speed and falling into a rhythm. "Relax for me, baby, 'm trying to get off here." Pete reacts accordingly, his jaw going slack and throat relaxing for his deeper thrusts. Patrick can see how fucking hard Pete is too, the outline of his hardon is obvious in his tight jeans. 

His grip on Pete's head slips and Patrick curls his fingers, grasping at straw blond hair and groaning a little as he shoves his hips forward. Pete gags, but doesn’t pull away so Patrick takes that as a good sign, keeps going. He’s close already, Patrick’s only regret is that he couldn’t make this last long enough for him to fuck Pete.

Pete can tell, when Patrick’s close, what with the way the singer’s thighs tense up and his fingers tighten in Pete’s hair. The bassist pulls off and reaches up with a hand, jerking off Patrick sloppily and licking his lips.

“You gonna come for me, Patrick?” Pete rasps, “You gonna come on my face?”

And god, that’s it, that pushes Patrick over the fucking edge. He lets out this cross between a growl and a moan, heat curling in his stomach as he comes hard, right over Pete’s cheeks, nose, and mouth. For a few moments the only sounds in the room are Pete panting and Patrick trying to catch his breath. Pete’s hand on Patrick’s dick gentles and slows to a stop, and Patrick can’t help staring down at Pete. So fucking gorgeous.

“What do you want, babe?” Patrick asks as he pulls up his pants and boxers unceremoniously, and Pete just whines. With a low chuckle, Patrick stumbles just a little and kneels, pressing the heel of his hand against Pete’s obvious hard on. “Look at you, on your knees in some hotel room with come on your face. So fucking dirty, you gonna be good and come for me?”

Pete’s nod is desperate and his hips keep jerking, pressing into Patrick’s touch and he’s still breathing raggedly. “I’m your good boy,” Pete chokes out; Patrick nods in agreement and presses down harder, leaning in closer. The moment his lips touch Pete’s neck, Pete’s hips are bucking and he’s gasping as he comes under Patrick’s touch.

Again, there’s silence as they catch their breath, and then laughter bubbles out of Pete’s mouth. “Fuck,” he says, voice raw from the blowjob. Pete drags Patrick into a kiss, mumbles against the singer’s lips, “You just made me come in my fucking pants like a teenager.” Patrick laughs too, cause yeah, it was funny.

“It was hot,” Patrick answers, pushing himself off the floor and swaying a little as he pulls Pete up with him. “Go change and join me in bed, ‘kay?” Patrick asks sleepily, kicking off his shoes and pushing his pants off yet again.

“Round two?” Pete calls from the bathroom, washing his face and peeling off sticky underwear. Patrick’s immediate response is more laughter.

“In your dreams, buttercup,” Patrick calls back, and he smiles tiredly when Pete returns from the bathroom in nothing but boxers. He pats the bed and hums sleepily. “C’mere. Got a spot saved just for you.”

Pete wastes no time filling said spot, climbing under the sheets and curling up close to Patrick and stealing a kiss. “You’re sure about no round two? Can’t we have a little more fun?” Pete asks, the disappointment in his tone obvious. 

This time Patrick rolls his eyes. 

But he doesn’t say no either.


End file.
